Getting By
by CityGirl419
Summary: Luna battles through her first year of Hogwarts after getting teased relentlessly. How does she cope with the mean kids that she's forced to share a dorm with for an entire year? One-Shot. Written for Hogwarts online.


**A/N This was written for Hogwarts Online's prompt of the day. The prompt was "the art of getting by". And this is in Luna's perspective during her first year. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**~Dest**

Kids will be kids. I think that's one of the most famous sayings in the world. It does a lot of things, that small sentence. It gives an excuse to kids that were brought up to act a certain way that is normally considered bad or terrible, maybe even mean. It explains a stage of life kids go through. How they learn about who they are, who they want to be, and things of that natural. Personally? I think that sentence should be banned from being spoken by anyone.

I feel the need confess...My name is Luna Lovegood, and even though I act like it is fine, I hate the things the other kids do to me.

Sure. Maybe it did start off as something silly and fun, and I didn't mind that. Then, it just progressed into something I couldn't really stand anymore. I don't really fit in anywhere. I'm not sure I want to anymore. At the beginning of the year, I couldn't stand it. I would sneak out of the common room and hide somewhere in the castle. Normally, it was in a corner or a broom closet or something. It would just have to be somewhere so a professor or prefect wouldn't be able to see me unless they looked hard enough. It was one of those things I did that was terribly lonely, but I'd rather do that than sleep in a room with people that teased me about being different than them.

I never really stopped to consider the fact that I was different. I didn't feel different until someone started pointing it out and teasing me. I felt normal. I was normal, in my family's eyes at least. I suppose that was all I should actually care about. It's not though. It never is. There is always something that someone is bothered about. Before I got to Hogwarts, I thought it was going to be amazing. I had always heard stories about friends meeting at Hogwarts. It was hard to grow up in the Wizarding World and not hear the stories. I suppose a part of me wanted that. I wanted to meet friends that would stay with me for the rest of my life. I wanted friends that would make me smile and make my time at Hogwarts great and magical. I just didn't get that.

Today is the last day of my first year at Hogwarts. The feast is going on right now in the Great Hall, but I'm petting a thestral in the Forbidden Forest while sitting cross-legged on the ground. The creatures attracted my attention the first time I snuck into the forest. I thought they looked interesting. I went back and looked up what they were. I can't deny that when I found out they were thestrals and that the only reason I could see them was because I watched my mom die that I wasn't upset. I think maybe I cried a bit, but that was a long time ago. I don't really remember. And, if I'm honest with myself, I don't really want to remember. It's easier to pretend the sad things don't exist.

I've gone back to see the thestrals ever since that day. Almost every weekend, I would go out and visit them. I learned the things they liked and started bringing them food. I liked feeding them. I don't know how many letters I sent to my father about them. He thought they were interesting too, and I sent a picture to him. I wondered how it worked. Sending a picture of a creature that could only be seen if the person had seen death. I wondered if someone that hadn't seen death could see a picture of them, but I didn't know and I didn't have anyone to test it on either. My father had seen death as well, you see.

Eventually, that thought passed and I got over it. It isn't good to dwell on something I might never know the answer to. I decided that maybe someday, if I ever met someone that didn't think I was weird, I would ask a person that hasn't seen death if they can see a picture of the wondrous creatures.

I took a sigh and got off the ground. I imagine the feast is about to end now. I needed to go and pack up my things so I could go home and be normal. Not a freak. I suppose, in a way, I don't need friends. I have the thestrals and they help me. They're my friends. I think I'll call it, "The Art of Getting By." Without them, I'm not sure how I would be able to.


End file.
